The Savage Side of Me
by Blu J and Caso
Summary: Sequel to 'Betrayal'. "Will you tell us about it? Mordor, I mean." "All right. Get comfortable; it really is quite a long tale..." ON HIATUS


**A/N: Hello everybody! As those of you who read my other story , _Betrayal_, I asked if you all wanted a story about Sparrow's past. I got many telling me they did, so here it is!  
**

**P.S. It's better to read Betrayal before this one so some of the details make more sense. You have been warned!**

**********BEGIN**********

"Come on, Frodo!" Sparrow Baggins called across Bag End. "Samwise, Merry, and Pip will be waiting for us."

"I'm coming." Frodo strutted into the entrance hall, showing off a new forest green vest. Sparrow fiddled with the garment for a moment before saying, "Guess what,"

"Wait, let me guess, you... Nope, I've got nothing. What?"

"Tig," She tapped the Ring-Bearer's shoulder and ran quickly out the door, careful not to jostle the items in the basket hooked on the crook of her arm.

Frodo shook his head and muttered happily, "Some things never change." Then chased after his wife.

Both were thoroughly winded by the time the got to the hill overlooking the Water where they had arranged to meet the other three Hobbits. "I won," Frodo proclaimed as he collapsed next to Sam.

"You're cracked; I _obviously_ won." Sparrow retorted rather tauntingly.

"Who was it most of the time?"

"You- I was..."

The Ring-Bearer smirked smugly. "_I_ won."

"How old are you two?" Meriadoc question as he rummaged through Sparrow's picnic basket.

"Older than you." The redhead snapped the basket lid closed.

"Come on, Sparrow," Pippin whined; "What did you bring? I'm starving!"

"Just some strawberries and a bit of cream. Samwise said he would cook something; go pester him."

Peregrin looked over his shoulder at the gardener. Sam sighed. "All right, let me go get a bit of kindling for the fire. Mr. Frodo, would you mind helping me?"

"Not at all, Sam."

The two stood and went off in search of sticks and whatnot.

Sparrow stretched out on the warm grass, enjoying the summer sun on her face. "You know what would be lovely, Pip? Going down to the river for a swim."

Both Merry and Pippin made a confused face at the lass. "None of us can swim, so that really doesn't sound as lovely as you make it out to be." Pippin said.

"Well_ I_ know how to swim." The redhead countered, sensing one of their many sibling-debates coming on.

"Wait, wait, what?" Merry interrupted. "How?"

"Get comfy, mates. It's quite the tale."

"What is?" Frodo asked as he walked towards the trio, a pile of sticks in his arms.

"Sparrow says she knows how to swim!" Peregrin said a little ecstatically, as if he wanted to show off the skill his sister had.

"Oh, really?" The Ring-Bearer questioned. He looked a rather nervous. Sparrow understood why entirely: ever since his parent's accident, Frodo had been terrified of water. So it was quite reasonable that he was a little on edge about his wife knowing how to swim.

"Yes, I do." Sparrow said with confidence, hoping to wash away such worries. "I was about to tell them the story, too."

"But, Miss Sparrow, you never liked going to East Farthing, and as far as I know that's the only place in the Shire where they really teach such a thing." Sam pointed out. "Where did you learn it, then?"

"Why, in Mordor, of course."

The afore friendly atmosphere tensed. Sparrow rarely said anything about her childhood in the Dark Land; she wasn't proud of anything she'd done while there.

"Will you tell us all about it? Mordor, I mean." Pip asked carefully.

"It's quite a long and ugly story, are you sure you really want to know it?" Sparrow inquired, to which all four Hobbits nodded eagerly. The lass sighed. "All right. Get comfortable; it really is quite a long tale."

Merry brought out the strawberries as the others gathered around the redhead, excitement buzzing in the air.

"First of all, I have to give you a bit of history: my parents_ loved_ Sauron. I'm not even sure how they got to Mordor in the first place - but they did. Every little thing they ever did was in Sauron's name. It was rather unhealthy, really. So, as Sauron was planning his return to Middle-Earth, my parents decided they wanted to do something really special to serve their lord. And so, my mother bore a son. His name was Aristoll. He was born to be the best in all of Sauron's army. Except he had a condition that made his muscles extremely weak.

"My mother, the more dedicated servant, knew what Sauron thought about waste: he hated it. So she wanted to drown him immediately. But my father had compassion for the lad and allowed him to live - which turned out to be a wonderful decision and a terrible one. After a couple of years, mother gave birth to another child. Healthy as could be. The only problem: it was a girl. Once again, my father saved the child - who was obviously me - much to my mother's disapproval. But Sauron said he would have me, so mother tolerated me a bit more than my brother."

"Did either your mother or father have red hair?" Meriadoc asked.

"Nope. Both had brown hair. Only Aris and I had it. Sauron said it was his version of a birthmark or something like that. May I continue?"

"Yes, please."

"As I was saying, my mother disapproved of both Aristoll and I. She didn't go so far as to beat us because that would anger our father, who cared quite tenderly for us, but she certainly wasn't kind. I didn't mind much, though; I had Aristoll and that was all I ever needed. He was there whenever I needed to vent about mother's terrible behavior. Despite being no more than three years of age, I could _rant_. But he didn't care. Aris let me go on and on until, generally, I fell asleep.

"This only went on for four years, though. On Aris' sixth birthday, three burly Orcs barged into our humble little abode, bound all of our hands, blinded my parents, and dragged us to Mount Doom. Our parents were thrown in while Aristoll and I were forced to watch."

"That sounds...traumatic..." Samwise said.

Sparrow shrugged. "I honestly don't remember it well. That's just what Aristoll told me happened. But that really wasn't the worst of it, and unfortunately I remember everything after that."

"Wait, so you two were just left by yourselves after that?"

"Oh, no, Samwise. We had a caretaker assigned to us. His name was Garth, he was a descendant of Numenor. He'd been in Sauron's army for quite sometime, mislead by many lies that what he was doing was for the greater good. He never told us what finally turned him, but he stopped serving the Dark Lord. Garth was about to be put to death, but begged to take care of us instead, since he was a wonderful swordsman he reasoned he could teach us. Sauron obliged and had Garth live with us and teach me; I'm sure he would have taught Aris too, but he was too weak to even pick up a sword. After a year of training with Garth - after becoming the _best_ - now, _that's_ when the real fun began..."

* * *

Six-year-old Sparrow ran across the ashen plains of Mordor to Barad-dur. She didn't want to be late for the meeting or Aristoll might feel the repercussions of her tardiness. The lass cursed herself silently for being so attached to him. Sauron held all her strings because of it. But she couldn't just stop caring. As long as Aris was her brother, she would love him. But as long as she cared, she would be forced to do horrible acts against the free peoples of Middle-Earth.

Sparrow shook away the thoughts - it was never good to be distracted at one of her meetings with Sauron - and strode into the darkly lit main room of the tower, trying to give herself a powerful aura. It was hard to do when she stood barely two and a half feet tall, but somehow she managed it.

_Ah, here she is. _Sauron's deep, silvery voice reverberated through the lass' head.

"Begging your pardon if I am late, Master." Sparrow bowed quickly, then saw the blue-skinned Orc.

_No, darling, you aren't late. In fact, you are early. But this is not just a social call; I called you here to meet my lieutenant, Shagrat. _

Shagrat gave a little nod. "She's so pretty, even at such a young age. My men will like her."

_Yes, lovely beyond belief. It will be a helpful tool in later days when she has more discipline. _

The Orc, lost in her already forming beauty, reached out and gently brushed Sparrow's cheek with a yellowed fingernail. The redhead recoiled in disgust, a matching expression of revulsion on her face. "Your men should know I also have an affinity to stick a pin between the ribs of those who displease me."

Shagrat growled at her.

_Now, now, Sparrow, dear. _Sauron sounded as if he were trying not to laugh. _You should show Shagrat some respect. He is to be your new commander.  
_

"But, Sire, I have Garth. Why do I need to be in a legion?" Sparrow question. She hated not having someone to make eye-contact with. It was awkward.

_Garth is useless. _There was resentment in the Maiar's voice. _His mind is cracking. He has lost himself in idle philosophizing. He is but a waste. You, however, have potential unlimited. I do not want his broken mind to squander such a talent as yours. Shagrat will help improve your skill, so you will train with him and his troops.  
_

"As you wish it, Sire." Sparrow said with another bow.

_Leave us, Shagrat. I must speak with Sparrow.  
_

Shagrat nodded and left quickly.

"Mainor, what are you playing at?" The redhead asked, sitting down and taking a meditative pose.

The Dark Lord seemed rather taken back to hear his first name, but was not surprised that Sparrow, of all people, used it. She was known for her audacious acts. _As I said, you have much potential. I want you to reach it._

"Why put me under Shagrat's command? Why not go ahead and give me a legion of my own? You know better than most anyone that I'm ready for it."

A melodious laugh echoed around the tower. _You really are so very bold for your age. It may be your downfall. Your appearance does not instill fear, so you must _earn_ their respect. They will be harder on you, not only because you are a female, but because you are my chosen soldier. Prove to them you are more than a pretty face and you will be rewarded.  
_

"And if I refuse?"

_Aristoll will learn what drowning feels like._

Sparrow closed her eyes, once again wishing she had no attachment to the lad. "I take it I report to the legion tomorrow?"

_Oh no, darling. I want them to see the Jewel of Mordor sooner than later. You are to report to Shagrat no later than noon. Show them why you are my favorite._

"Yes, Sire." The lass stood and bowed. Then exited Barad-dur.

Waiting for her outside was Shagrat. He took her roughly by the arm and led the lass to a training court filled with Orcs. When they saw them, the Orcs quickly moved to the sidelines.

"Show me what you can do, whelp."

A sword that would have been long and heavy in a Orc's hand was shoved into the redhead's. Sparrow was uncomfortable with the blade, its balance was terrible and it was practically as long as her, and certainly much heavier than her.

_No matter, Sparr. It's just a minor inconvenience. Prove to them you are the best there is. _

Sparrow hefted the sword and knew immediately that this would have to be a quick fight. Despite being in amazing physical condition, her arms wouldn't be able to hold the sword for long. Then an idea struck her. "Wouldn't my brawn be better proven in a fist fight?"

All the Orcs muttered in quiet surprise. Shagrat narrowed his eyes, as if trying to figure out if she were being serious. After a long moment, he laughed. "You're on, whelp."

Both handed their swords off and bowed to signal the start of the skirmish. Sparrow's mind clicked into combat mode as Garth had always taught her. Time slowed around her as she analyzed the Orc for weak points.

_His neck, obviously. But he's nearly seven feet tall, there's no way I could get up him quick enough. His kidneys would be vulnerable enough, but that's still rather high up.  
_Then Sparrow noticed how gingerly he put weight on his left ankle._ So, high-and-mighty Shagrat, you've suffered an injury recently, haven't you?But you're too proud to let it heal; oh no, no showing any form of weakness. Just soldier on. Haven't you ever heard to guard your weaknesses?  
_

Sparrow smiled. She had this in the bag.

"Are you done living in your fantasies, whelp?" Shagrat asked.

"What are you talking about? I've been waiting for your move, coward." Sparrow had never been great at trash-talk, but her words baited the Orc into attack just as she had planned.

Shagrat let out a roar of defiance and charged.

Sparrow stood still - crouching, though, ready for movement - singing an Elvish lullaby that Garth had taught her - she loved to use the language of the Elves. It upset the Orcs. Once Shagrat was less than a yard away, Sparrow dropped and slide under the Orc, kicking his injured ankle hard as she did so.

Sparrow jumped up and brushed off her trousers as the stout Orc fell hard. "I was rather hoping for a challenge."

The group of onlooking Orcs roared with laughter. "Come on, lads, lets get the victor a drink!" A voice called out, and the next thing Sparrow knew, she was lifted on to the crowd's shoulders. Obviously few ever beat Shagrat.

Sparrow spent the evening surrounded by drunk Orcs with mugs being shoved into her hand. She didn't drink much, though; the Orc ale burned her throat.

At about ten at night, a tall, dark-haired Man barged in, grabbed Sparrow's wrist, and dragged her out. "What were you thinking?" Garth asked as he shepherded her into their one room hovel. "You are six-years-old, you're not to be drinking!"

"We were celebrating, Garth! What was I supposed to do? Refuse to drink to the occasion?"

"Y- wait, what were you celebrating?"

"I beat the Dark Lord's lieutenant, Shagrat." Sparrow smiled in self-pleasure.

Garth, on the other hand, was nowhere near as pleased. "You did _what_?!" He bellowed. "Sparrow, Orcs are proud, they enjoy success. And they never forgive cheating."

"But I didn't cheat; I won fair and square." The lass pouted, folding her arms over her chest. "He was injured, so I used that to my advantage, just like _you_ taught me to."

"I believe you, Sparrow. I know you're an honest lass. But Shagrat doesn't. He'll think you cheated him somehow. And, because he's commander of the group, he'll make sure all the others shun you as if you'd committed murder."

"Well that's just plain old dumb."

"No one ever said Orcs were smart, did they? Just proud."

Sparrow sighed, then noticed Aristoll sitting on the bottom bunk of their bunk beds that were separated from the main room by a dark blue curtain. "I'm sorry if I worried you, Garth, but am I excused?"

"Yes, Sparrow. Just watch your back better next time, all right?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded and ran off to hug Aristoll.

"What happened?" Aris asked in his rather croaky voice as Sparrow put on a clean set of clothes.

Sparrow told her brother about her meeting with Sauron, the fight against Shagrat, and the party afterwards. When she finished, Aristoll whistled, impressed. "Nice going, Sparr."

"Thanks, I think it was really dumb luck, though. Garth thinks that they'll avoid me from now on just because I won. But from the way they were praising me earlier, I highly doubt it."

"Well, if they ostracize you tomorrow, they ostracize you. You'll just have to wait for tomorrow to find out. But it's late now, so you'd best be getting to be."

Sparrow groaned. "Fine." She kissed Aris' cheek and climbed on to her bed, then passed out instantly.

* * *

The next morning, all the Orcs acted just as Garth had predicted. Sparrow strode out on to the training field confidently, only to be met with sneers and disapproving looks. She finally realized the Numenorian had been right when she went to talk to one of the kinder - at least kinder when drunk - Orc known as Uthik.

"What's going on?" She inquired of him. "Last night everyone sang in praise, now I'm met with scorn."

"Get away from me, whelp. We have no reason to praise a faker like you."

Sparrow's jaw dropped and she stamped her foot. "Fine! I don't need you..." She paused as she tried to figure out a good comeback. "Pieces of rubbish..." The lass finished lamely, her cheeks becoming almost as red as her hair when the Orc laughed.

Sparrow frowned, turned, and marched off quickly towards the weapon rack on the side of the field. She wanted nothing more than to sit down and sob. But she couldn't: Garth had warned her that Orcs take notice of every sign of weakness and exploit it. If she showed how upset she was, Shagrat wouldn't take her seriously and would probably kick her out of the legion. That would be unacceptable. Sparrow had to be better than everyone else or else Aristoll died.

If Aris knew that his death was the punishment for Sparrow's defiance, he probably would have begged her to disobey Sauron. Aristoll kept himself alive for Sparrow, she needed him more than anything.

Sparrow would fantasize to her brother about escape, and during such times Aris would confess he felt like nothing more than dead weight. Sparrow, of course, would comfort him, telling him that he meant the world to her. Usually it would end with Aristoll shaking his head and telling her that she'd be better off without him. If Sparrow tired to argue the point, Aris would just tell her he was tired and go to his bed.

Sparrow picked up a sword about right for her hand - which, in the hands of an Orc, would have been a dagger - and twirled around.

_Have we learned a lesson today, little Sparrow? _

The lass jumped at hearing her master's voice, nearly cutting open her stomach with the blade. "A lesson? And what would that be?" She whispered in hopes that none of the Orc could overhear her.

_You cannot just rise to the top immediately, you must prove yourself worthy by following orders and going through the ranks, just as anyone else would have to._

"But I don't_ need_ orders; I know how to give them out just fine. This is just a waste of my time!"

_You are nothing more than a naïve child if you really believe that. _Sauron's tone was filled with anger, and Sparrow - in all honesty - could not figure out why. She was smart, strong, brave. Essentially, she was_ perfect_. Why wouldn't he just drop the high-and-might attitude and let her have her own soldiers to lead?

_Because you're just six years of age. _A voice, one of her own, said.

_That's not fair! I'm nearly seven!_

Sparrow couldn't suppress a chuckle at that. Part of her would always just be a little girl who felt misunderstood.

"No point in arguing any more. Let's go show these bastards who's going to be leading them by the time she's eight."

With that, Sparrow marched off to the training field to thoroughly kick some Orc butt.

**########END########**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! And remember to let me know what you though of it in a review.  
**

**- Caso**


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